This is an idea that popped in to my head when I couldn't sleep in the early hours of this morning, as most brilliant ideas do. I've basically been fashioning half the plot and writing dialogue in my head all day, so it's a relief to actually be able to get it all down. This fic is set in England, simply because that's where I come from so it's just easier for me to write more fluently and not have to Google everything to do with the American schooling system. Basically, Kurt and Blaine are both sixteen years old, which in England puts them in their final year of high school. Also, this fic will feature mentions of child abuse in later chapters. Nothing explicit, but it's only right to warn you all.
Kurt Hummel loved school. He knew he must be the only kid in the whole of England who was actually excited to return. Whilst most teenagers spent their six weeks lounging around in the rare glow of sun, allowing their summer days to slip by slowly and unproductively, Kurt was busy perfecting his talent for the year ahead. Kurt was a Warbler, the best thing you could be if you went to Dalton Academy. But not only was he a Warbler; Kurt was the unchristened leader of the pack. It had never been confirmed nor voiced by anyone, but the fact that Kurt was by far the best singer went without a shadow of a doubt.
Kurt walked through the gates that first day of September and smiled. His newly purchased, freshly ironed navy blazer felt comforting against his skin, and as he caught sight of the building Kurt felt like he was coming home. He had been to a few schools before Dalton, schools where he had been subjected to horrific bullying everyday. There had been times when Kurt had feared for his life, and then his father had found Dalton. It was a private, all boys school, the best in the area. It cost a bomb to send his son there, but Burt Hummel would have cut off his own arm if it meant Kurt would be safe and happy.
"Kurt, Kurt!" a voice cried from the throng of schoolboys ambling through the yard. Kurt turned around.
James Pickering, fellow Warbler and one of Kurt's closest friends, was coming towards him. James was a tall, gangly boy who's pale skin bloomed with acne. His voice was his saving grace, managing to harmonise perfectly with anyone else's.
"Is it possible that you've grown two inches over the summer?" Kurt asked. "I mean, I can barely make out the colour of your eyes from down here."
"Shut up," James laughed. "Come on, everyone else is already in the common room."
The common room was unofficial territory for the Warblers. It was meant to be a place for the upper years to share, but anyone who wasn't part of the gang had been turfed out long ago. Following James through the sea of blue, Kurt entered the school and rounded the corner towards the common room. Like the rest of Dalton, it was homely yet extravagant in every way. Sat on one of the leather sofas and fumbling through his bag was Travis, another one of Kurt's friends. As soon as he saw Kurt enter he leaped up.
"Hummel!" he roared. "Get over here."
The customary ritual of back-to-school back slapping and banter began as the Warblers united in the middle of the room, Kurt crammed in to the center of them. "Guys, guys," Kurt shouted suddenly. The room hushed. "I think I've found one of our songs for sectionals, let me know what you guys think."
"What is it?" Finley, a bespectacled boy, asked eagerly.
"Oh, I think you'll know it," Kurt smiled.
He walked over to the towering music system in the corner, the trophy from the groups last victory. Kurt fished around in his pocket until he found the CD he was looking for, slipping it in to the player as the others circled around them. As the music began, and the smiles of recognition rippled through the crowd, Kurt began to tap his feet.
"Just shoot for the stars," Kurt began to croon. "If it feels right, then aim for my heart."
The Warblers tapped their feet and clicked their fingers around him, the sounds bouncing off the windows as they allowed the music to fill them up. Kurt walked around the circle, singing to each boy in turn:
"You say I'm a kid, my ego is big. I don't give a..."
The room ushered a collective, "Ssh" as Kurt shrugged. He pushed James in the middle of his chest.
"And it goes like this!" Kurt sang loudly in his face.
And together, in the eerie, brilliant the way that only the Warblers could pull off, Kurt, James, and Travis simultaneously raced across the room, as if it was what they had been planning to do all along. They jumped high in the air, legs stretched out, their feet crashing flat in to the back of one of the sofas so that it tipped downwards. The three of them neatly walked off it as if it were nothing more than a garden step.
"Take me by the tongue and I'll know you," they sang.
"Kiss me 'til I'm drunk and I'll show you!" the others chorused.
"You want the moves like Jagger, I've got the moves like Jagger, I've got the mo-oo-oo-oo-oves like Jagger!" Kurt, James, and and Travis finished as they danced together in a line, hips swirling and toes tapping and heads spinning.
Kurt carried on alone. "I don't even try to control-"
A loud cough made them all halt, Kurt almost toppling over as he bumped in to a frozen James. Somebody cut the music. The Warblers all turned to face the intrusion. Stood at the door, his navy blazer slung over his shoulders and his shirt sleeves rolled, was a boy none of them had ever seen before. He wasn't particularly tall, but he was built like a rugby player. His dark hair was gelled within an inch of its life, accentuating his strong chin and discreetly prominent cheek bones. However for Kurt all of this at first went unnoticed as he found himself captivated by the strangers eyes. They blazed brighter than a flame, hazel in colour but when the light hit they seemed to glow amber.
He was absoloutley gorgeous.
"Sorry to break up your little, uh, performance," the boy began. His voice was deep and carrying, tinged with the subtlest of Cockney accents. "Can anyone tell me where I can find my English classroom? Room 11."
The Warblers muttered amongst themselves, then Kurt stepped forward. He flashed the boy his most dazzling smile as he said, "Of course. Come on."
He walked over to the door, pausing as he considered grabbing the boys arm and leading him down the hall. Maybe it would be too much. Instead Kurt awkwardly dropped the hand he had previously raised, jerking his head as he gestured for the boy to follow him. "I'm Kurt Hummel, by the way," Kurt explained as they walked.
"Blaine Anderson," the other replied.
"Is this your first day?" Kurt enquired.
"Yeah," Blaine said. "I just moved here from Bethnal Green." He looked and sounded hopelessly bored, as if he wished he could be anywhere but walking the halls of Dalton with Kurt Hummel. This dismayed Kurt a little.
"You'll love it here, Dalton is a really good school," Kurt assured him. He felt slightly flustered. What could he say to make this beautiful boy think he was the least bit interesting? "Those boys I was with just now are the Warblers." He knew everything there was to know about the Warblers, he could entertain Blaine for hours with his tales if he needed to.
"The Warblers?" Blaine snorted.
Kurt threw him an irritated glance. "Yes," he snapped defensively. "We're an extremely popular and successful singing group. We've competed all over the country. In Wales too, once."
"Good to know," Blaine sighed.
"Can you sing?" Kurt asked, beginning to loose patience with this boy. "You can audition, if you like."
"Listen, uh, Kurt, was it?" Blaine tweaked his hair as they passed a mirror. "I'm not in to that pansy shit. I just want to keep my head down, get some good grades, and manage to leave high school without having to transfer again. And find my English classroom - in the next two minutes, preferably."
"Well good, because here we are," Kurt muttered. They paused outside of Miss Hepburn's classroom. Both boys stared at each other for a moment, unsure of how exactly to proceed.
"Are you coming in too?" Blaine asked eventually.
Kurt shook his head. "I have Mr Fields this year."
"Oh," Blaine said blankly. "Well, thanks I suppose. Maybe I'll see you around."
"Maybe," Kurt agreed.
They both turned, walking their separate ways. Kurt shook his head. God, that guy was arrogant. Pampered by mummy, no doubt. Kurt entertained himself for the next few seconds as he mercilessly insulted Blaine inside his head. Then finally Kurt sighed, as there was one thing he definitely couldn't deny: Blaine Anderson was really, really hot.
Dalton Acadamey granted its students a fifteen minute break after every one hour lesson. Kurt spent his first morning break of the year lounging around in the canteen with James and Travis. On the table in front of them towered what looked like half of the vending machine. As James and Travis chatted animatedly about a football game that had been played the previous night, their mouths wide open and revealing the churned remains of Mars bars and crisps, Kurt found his gaze drifting to the window.
It was then that he spotted Blaine walking alone across the yard. He paused when he reached one of the bike sheds, quickly scouting the area around him before ducking behind it. A few moments later a tell tale trail of thin blue smoke began to snake out from side of the shed. Kurt rolled his eyes.
"I'll see you both in Maths," he proposed.
"Where are you going?" Travis asked.
"Outside to enjoy the last moments of September sunshine," Kurt replied easily. "We're forecasted rain all next week."
"Of course we are," James sighed, then he resumed his conversation with Travis as Kurt slipped away.
He went outside in to the yard, creeping slowly towards the bike shed where Blaine stood. When Kurt arrived Blaine was facing the opposite direction. Kurt tapped him on the shoulder.
"The fuck?" Blaine spluttered, spinning around. He looked Kurt up and down. "Jesus. Don't ever do that to me again."
"Scared you?" Kurt teased.
"I just don't like people creeping up and touching me, okay?" Blaine snapped. He said it with such fierce conviction that Kurt looked down at his shoes. He wrinkled his nose. The place stunk of weed. Sure enough, when Kurt looked up he saw Blaine raising a spliff to his lips.
"What are you doing?" Kurt hissed, pushing down Blaine's arm. He frantically looked around. "You could get us both in serious trouble."
"Oh no," Blaine cried out in mock horror. "Relax. I smoke it for a purpose, okay? It helps me sleep at night."
"Funny, because it's ten o'clock in the morning," Kurt quipped.
Blaine rolled his hazel eyes. "Whatever. It's none of your business anyway."
The sudden crunch of footsteps made them both freeze. Blaine quickly blew out a gust of smoke, tossing his spliff over the fence. A snide remark sizzled on the tip of Kurt's tongue but he held it back as he saw his friend Lee come around the corner. The Warbler looked Kurt and Blaine over.
"What are you doing out here, with him?" Lee said to Kurt. Blaine coolly raised an eyebrow.
"Just talking," Kurt replied.
"Coming to class?" Lee asked, making a point to speak only at Kurt. However his gaze lingered on Blaine, who suddenly drew himself up.
"What gives you the right to look at me like that, you arrogant fuck?" Blaine snapped.
Lee laughed. "Who do you think you're talking to?"
"You look at me like that again and I'll floor you," Blaine warned.
"Oh yeah?" Lee snarled.
They squared up to each other. Kurt threw himself between them. "Come on, guys," he said helplessly. "Let's just forget it." His cries went ignored.
Kurt wasn't sure who threw the first punch, but suddenly he was flattened against the hard railings of the fence as Blaine and Lee growled at each other like beasts, grovelling around on the ground.
"Stop!" Kurt screamed.
"Boys!" another voice shrieked. Ms Sharpel, the headmistress, towered above them. Her long nostrils flared with anger. "Get inside, all three of you."
Blaine and Lee roughly pushed each other off. They stood up, Blaine dusting dirt off his trousers and Lee nursing a split lip. Kurt was unsurprised to see that Blaine had emerged with barely a bruise. The three of them followed Ms Sharpel to her office. All the way there Kurt's heart thumped and his stomach somersaulted. What was going to happen to his impeccable record now? If Blaine and Lee were going down for this, then there was no way he was getting dragged with them.
"Sit," Ms Sharpel demanded. There were only two chairs in front of her desk, which Kurt and Lee quickly took, leaving Blaine to brood by the window.
"Ms, can I go and get something for my lip?" Lee pleaded.
"In a minute," Ms Sharpel snapped. Then she proceeded to rant about the responsibilities of her students, the rules of her school, and everything else in between. Kurt nervously raised a hand.
"Ms Sharpel's, can I just say that I wasn't involved in the fight at all," he claimed.
Blaine laughed. "Yeah, that's right. Throw us to the sharks," he muttered.
"That's enough Mr Anderson," Ms Sharpel warned. Then she did a double take as she looked at Blaine. "Mr Anderson, am I right in believing you became a student at this school..." she glanced up at the clock. "Just over one hour ago?"
"Yes," Blaine said quietly, though there was a hint of smug pride in his voice.
"Unbelievable. Well, it's such a shame that I'm going to have to let you go," Ms Sharpel concluded.
Blaine's head snapped up. "What? You can't!" he cried.
"I think you'll find that I can," Ms Sharpel said tartly.
Kurt's mind clicked in to action. He didn't know why he was bothering, but he knew that he wanted Blaine to have a second chance. "Ms Sharpel, can I suggest something?" he asked. He was one of the schools best students, that had to earn him a voice didn't it?
Ms Sharpel sighed. "Yes, Kurt, you may."
Kurt swallowed. "Michael Hall left for America at the end of last year. He was one of our Warblers, if you remember. We need another person to join if we're going to compete this year," he turned to face Blaine. "I think Blaine should be given the option to audition if he wants to redeem himself. Surely it's better to express himself through performing instead of fighting?"
A small smile flashed across Ms Sharpel's lips. "Well Kurt, I can't knock you for your cunning."
Blaine looked between the two of them. He shook his head. "Oh no," he insisted. "No way."
Ms Sharpel raised an eyebrow. "I don't think you're in a position to argue, Mr Anderson," she said.
"What's the other option?" Blaine questioned in a tired voice.
"Permanent exclusion," Ms Sharpel replied simply.
Blaine looked at Kurt again. "Fine," he muttered.
Kurt exploded with happiness.
"But it'll have to be tomorrow," Blaine added. "I'll need to fetch my guitar."
What do you all think? So many people favourite and place alerts these days, but hardly anyone bothers with reviews. They mean a lot to me so I'd love you forever if you left me one! Bear in mind that certain things may be a little off character, after all this is badboy!Blaine, but hopefully my directing gave you a clear image of the music scene in your head. If not, let me know!